The Kitchen Floor
by singsongsung
Summary: No.24. Rory/Logan. There's no place to resolve an argument like the kitchen floor.


**The Kitchen Floor**

**A/N: **Another fic! Alright, so here's the deal:

1) A lot of people are confused about the order of my stories. I'm sorry. I am going to put a list up on my profile page, and I'm going to do it soon. I promise.

2) Reviews. Guys, I love you, and I love people who review consistently so much. But I got four reviews on my last story, which is sad. I saw a story the other day that had over 400 reviews, and it wasn't super long. So please. Love it or hate it, review. I'm going to story-withhold again, I'm sad to say. Give me 20 reviews and I'll start writing again.

3) I'm not a big fan of this particular fic. It's okay, but I'm not totally satisfied with the end. Not my favourite, but hey. The last time I said I hated something, you guys were happy, so we'll see what happens.

4) Once again, I am beta-less at the moment, so any spelling or grammatical errors, typos, etc…I apologize.

5) Read on!!

"Hey," he said softly, surprised to see her standing in kitchen so late at night.

She smiled at him almost sadly. "Hey, yourself."

"Everything okay, Ace?"

"Yeah, I just wanted some coffee," she replied, pointing to the full mug sitting on the counter.

"Ah, yes. I, too, enjoy having staring contests with coffee."

She smiled again, and that time it was genuine. "Shut up."

He stood in front of her, pressing her gently against the counter. "Make me."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Is that a challenge?"

"I'd say so, Ace."

But instead of moving in to kiss him, she looked back at her coffee and sighed.

He tilted his head, trying to meet her eyes. "Rory?"

She looked back at him, still smiling softly. "Sorry. I'm just…a little distracted."

"Hey, even I know better than to get in between you and your coffee." He stepped back and poured himself a cup. He mixed in cream and sugar and took a sip. He turned back to her and noticed that she was still staring at her coffee.

"Hey, babe, is everything really okay?"

"Yeah, it is. More than okay. Maybe."

"Maybe?" He'd never known her to be so uncertain. After all, this was the girl who'd called him a butt-faced miscreant, asked him if he was planning on ever asking her out, and asserted opposing views at every opportunity.

She gave him another one of those sad-like smiles. "Yeah, maybe. Let's…sit, okay."

He made to leave the room (they'd ordered a new kitchen table but it wasn't there yet, and they'd already thrown out the old one), but her hand on his arm stopped him.

"I mean…" she began. "Let's sit in here."

He smiled at her gently, sensing her nervousness. "There's no where to sit in here, Ace."

She shrugged and her smile grew less hesitant. "Let's just sit on the floor. As good a place as any."

"Why not," he agreed good-naturedly.

They both sat so that they were leaning against the cupboards. "Logan," she said, staring straight ahead.

"Rory," he mimicked, unable to resist.

"I'm pregnant," she blurted.

"Whoa," he said, turning to face her. "Okay."

She bit her lip, whether to suppress a grin or a sob, he couldn't tell. "Yeah."

At first, he didn't know what to say. Finally, slowly, as if taking care to articulate each syllable, he said, "I thought we weren't going to have anymore kids."

She was breathing heavily, almost painfully. "I know."

He reached for her hand and gently took it in his own. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, still staring straight ahead. "It just seems really…soon. I mean, we just got back together…"

"I know, Ace. So…maybe this is good, right? Now everything can go back to normal. And you and I, we're okay, right?"

She looked at their entwined fingers and nodded. "Yes. Of course."

"So…did you go to the doctor?"

She shook her head. "I just _know_, you know?"

He ran his thumb over her knuckles soothingly. "Yeah, of course. Should I call and make you an appointment?"

She gave him a watery smile. "Thanks."

He squeezed her hand before releasing it and standing up. "Tell you what I'll do. I'll call the doctor, and then I'll go out and get you all that crazy food you crave. Is it safe to assume you'll still want that insane mix of avocado, Kit Kat bars, and Worcestershire sauce?"

"All in the same bowl," she said softly. "Of course."

He pushed himself up and offered her a hand. "Good. Okay, so I'm off. You'll be fine with the kids, right? You've got Jana to help if you need anything."

"Yeah, I'll be fine," she echoed.

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. "I love you, Ace." She felt his hand graze her stomach lightly.

"Love you, too," she echoed once more, feeling a bit like a lethargic parrot.

Lucas peeked around the corner of the kitchen. "Mommy?"

Rory smiled at him. "You spy! What's up, baby?"

He looked up at her in that trusting way of his. "What were you and Daddy talking about?"

She shook her head affectionately and crouched down so that they were eye level. "You brat. How much did you hear?"

"You said something about stuff being soon, and then Daddy said something about stuff being normal, and then you said that you _knew_," he said, emphasising the word just as she had. "And then you talked about doctors and fruit and chocolate. Are you sick, Mommy?"

She ruffled his hair gently. "No, honey, I'm fine. Listen, you shouldn't eavesdrop, okay? It's a bad habit and it's not polite."

He nodded, his eyes serious. "Okay. But what were you talking about?"

Rory settled back onto the floor and pulled him down gently to sit beside her. "Do you remember when Lory was born, sweetie?"

He made a face. "Sort of. I remember when you brought her home."

"Okay. Well, you're going to have another little brother or sister. I'm going to have another baby."

"Oh." He considered for a moment.

"Lukey?"

"I want a boy," he told her.

She grinned at him. "It's not up to me, angel, I'm sorry."

"Hey, Mommy?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"If you're having a baby…" he seemed to be deep in thought, "then did you and Daddy do something dirty?"

She gaped at him. "Lucas Elias Huntzberger," she said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "Who told you that?" she demanded.

"Oma," he said, as if it were obvious.

And it was, really. She should have known. "Of course," she muttered.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, Lukey?"

"Can I go now?"

"Sure, sweetie. I love you," she added, planting a kiss on his temple.

"Love you, too," he said, kissing her cheek before running off.

She got up and went off in search of the phone. In the end, she had to press the 'seek' button on the base to locate it. It was sitting on the kitchen counter. She grabbed it and dialled quickly from memory as she slid back down to the floor.

"Dragonfly Inn, Lorelai Gilmore speaking."

"Hey, Mom. Is everything…okay?"

"Oh, hey, sweetie," Lorelai replied, her business-like tone fading away. "Yeah, sure, Michel's just being annoying."

"As usual."

"But of course," Lorelai contributed in a pompous French accent. "Wha- oh, hang on, babe. _Michel!_" she yelled. "_Michel, I swear, lick that envelope this minute or…No! What? You are not going to die from envelope germs! Who the hell told you that? …Yeah, well, we ran out of those press-it-seal-it ones, so we have to use the old fashioned envelopes…Okay, fine! __**I**__ will lick the envelopes, __**you**__ can go search for a new job. Yeah, that's what I thought…One day, I'm going to learn French and you're going to regret all those times you've cursed at me…_Hey, honey," she said breathlessly. "Sorry about that. What's up?"

"Um, I'm pregnant."

"_Michel! Are you aware that those people are __**paying customers**_I'll call you back, hon," she added quickly before hanging up.

Rory had time to stare at the phone incredulously before it rang again. "Mom?" she asked cautiously.

"_You're pregnant?"_ Lorelai shrieked delightedly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Um…"

"Oh, right, you just did. Sorry, babe. Honey…wow! That's so…"

"Soon?" Rory offered.

"I was going to say 'wonderful', but we'll go with your word," Lorelai said agreeably. "Are you not happy, honey?"

"No, that's not it. I am. I mean…I want this baby, I really do. Lory's getting older, and…I just… I didn't think we were going to have three kids. We weren't planning on it."

"Sweetie, if you want this kid, then…that's great, that you're pregnant. And I promise you, having three kids is great. I have three kids, and, to quote McDonald's, I'm lovin' it."

"Ew!" Rory cried, momentarily distracted.

"Ew? Seriously? Have you gotten hooked on _The OC_ again? Channelling Summer?"

"No, _ew_, McDonald's."

"I'm sorry. Did you just '_ew_' a place that has burgers? You've broken the Gilmore code."

"Who needs Ronald when you have Luke?"

"I've taught you well, grasshopper," Lorelai commented affectionately. "Now, speaking of grasshoppers…"

"Kindly do not refer to my unborn child as an insect," Rory sighed.

"Fine, fine. But sweets…are you okay, really?"

"Yeah…to be honest, I'm really happy. I just have this…weird feeling. What if it's some twisted form of mother's intuition?"

"Intuition is a great thing, babe, but it's not always right. Keep that in mind."

"I know."

"Okay."

"I miss you, Mom."

"Aw, Rory. I miss you, too. I'll come and visit sometime soon, okay? Oh, and I suggest you call _your grandmother_ and tell her your baby news very soon, before she hears it from someone else."

"But no one else knows."

Rory could practically hear her mother's wise, ironic smile. "You're so pure, honey."

"Speaking of purity…what have you been telling my son?"

"Oh, Rory, angel, I'm sorry, but I hear Michel complaining about something…"

Rory rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh."

"So, I have to go save the world from the horrors of a single skim-milk-drinking French guy, so I'll call you later?"

"Sure you will."

"Oh, my favourite oldest child. I love you."

"You, too," Rory replied before hanging up. She got up and rummaged around the kitchen searching for something to eat. There was always lots of food, but at the moment, none of it was actually food that she wanted. She was rummaging around a cupboard when she came across a shoebox. It reminded her distinctly, for some reason, of a health class movie on anorexia she'd watched in high school. The girl in the movie had stashed a bunch of candy in a box to prove her willpower or something. The details weren't clear to her anymore, but she was apprehensive as she opened it all the same.

Inside was a bunch of food, but it just seemed, at first, like a random collection. Then, Rory realized, with a gasp, what it was.

It was food that was very, well…Rory-like. Guacamole, frozen French fries, coffee… And Logan must have put it all in the shoebox and thrown it into the back of the cupboard shortly after she'd left, just like she'd torn all the Yale paraphernalia off of her walls. The sight of all that old, possibly decomposing food, made her want to cry.

She sat back down on the floor and sighed as she fingered the corner of a package of brownies. A couple tears slipped out of her eyes, but they weren't her usual tears of sadness, reflecting on their separation. They were more like tears of relief, relief of the knowledge that she and Logan were alike, and that maybe things truly _could_ go back to normal.

"Hey, Ace!" she heard her husband call from the front hall. "I got a lot of avocadoes. I thought we might try to make our own guacamole…?"

She buried her face in her hands for a moment, but she smiled. "Yeah!" she called back. "Sounds…perfect."

**A/N: **You totally want to review right now, don't you? You must be so glad I reminded you. :)


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